Chapter 33

The initial guardians and soldiers that tried to resist the charging demotic entity found themselves cut asunder, hacked to pieces; Its electric blade painting a grim effigy upon the air of crackling sparks, crimson gore, and exposed bones. The whip was no different, setting aflame those that touched it, leaving them to collapse, their own armor a bright searing white. Those that tried to rush forward to defend the wall with spears faced a different challenge, the heat in which pulsated within its blackened chest was intense, casting out tendrils of white-hot flame as if alive themselves, putting a wicked end to those that did not hastily retreat.

Veledar slammed into the towering monstrosity with all his weight, talons that could peel through flesh poised and ready to do the same to this brute; to his surprise the balor’s flesh was as durable as stone, his strike brushed aside as easily as a spring’s breeze.  The dragon was hurled straight to the ground with the strength that not even a fire giant could match, he’d hardly let out a pained grunt as the demotic creature followed through, if not for a bombardment of ice shards that pelted across the creature’s face, the dragon would have found himself decapitated.

“Think you go and hog all the glory yerself?” Merlia shouted from above, already loading her crossbow, the metal tip of her bolt shimmering blue. “Not if I have anything to say about it!”

“Now that’s something we can agree on!” Asterion stood amidst the carnage, his hands flowing with white, cascading light. Eyes lit with holy flame as he barked a spell and gestured towards the unholy beast. What came was an explosion of light bright as the sun, centered right on it’s chest. Cheers resounded as a plume of smoke surrounded the balor but died the moment it stepped through unscathed.

He'd read they were durable, but this might be a bit more than he’d suspected. Veledar pulled himself to all fours as Arcturus was barking to Alonso to pull the guardians back, any who stepped up to square off with the towering monstrosity was being burned, sliced apart, or crushed beneath its hooves. The dragon raced to it with magic on his talons, blue line following him like ribbons through the air. He avoided the Balor’s sword, lashed out with a paw, only to have the creature disappear in the blink of an eye with a soft pop, his talons tasting air.

 It had teleported behind him, right in the middle of the gathering guardians, flames unraveling out from its wretched body. It weaved a grim painting of sorrow upon the air, souls unable to escape as they melted like wax before it’s cursed magic. Undeterred by their screams it marched towards the wall, oblivious to the bouts of holy flames that Asterion was hurling in its direction.

“It’s trying to tear down the wall!” Arcturus shouted, hurling lightning bolts to crackle and spark as they detonated across the balor’s back, it hardly noticed as it rose it’s sword high, drawing in heat with a wicked hiss until the blade glowed with the wretched fires of the hells.

As Veledar wheeled about and hurled himself at the creature, it carved a deep valley through the stone. Molten cracks were left in it’s wake as the wall yielded to its wretched demand. “There will be none of that!” He roared as he planted his hinds on its back, forcing the towering beast to the ground. Talons carved through flesh, his teeth tasted blood, adrenaline surged as he realized these creatures could be bested. Still, even with this success, the balor was not one to be defeated so easily.

Dropping it’s whip, the demon snatched Veledar by his throat, unyielding power pulling the dragon straight off him. The beast rose with a terrible growl, holding Veledar out as though he were nothing more than an unruly cat. Despite the dragons hissing and scratching, the balor held him firm. It rose its sword and pulled back, aiming square for the dragon’s chest.

The air was filled with thunderous cracks as rifles and energy crossbows were brought to bear. The guardians unleashing a withering barrage. They were joined by Arcturus and the others, lightning, cold and holy magic forming a cloud of destructive death. Even a creature as durable as a balor was affected, forcing the monstrosity to stumble back with a pained roar. Despite this it stabbed with all it’s might, to end the dragon that dare carve into it’s flesh. But Veledar was not without his tricks.

In a plume of lavender smoke, he’d changed his size, now no larger than the cat that Fremra like to pretend to be. The dragon slid from the balor’s grasp like an eel, his wings carrying him around the sword meant to end him. He spiraled up with pride in his chest, beating down the moment of panic that had gripped him. To his dismay as he wheeled around and returned to his usual size, the balor had seen fit to punish those that had disrupted its kill.

Guardians found themselves hacked, torn and ripped apart in a deluge of screams, spears splintered uselessly, rifles broke in two, their armor little use to it’s relentless assault. Merlia was forced to duck behind the wall’s parapet as a whip reached out to grab her, Asterion was kicked into a building with a pained grunt. Voidwing managed to pull Nivra and Arcturus away from having their heads chopped right off.

“Any ideas?” Krotos rose alongside the dragon’s wings, his feathers covered in ash and what the dragon hoped wasn’t his blood.  The gryphon’s eyes were wide, wracked with fear, “It’s not being slowed down by anything, my talons did nothing.”

The dragon didn’t want to bring more fear with words, but it didn’t look exceptionally well. He tilted his wings and circled the rampaging demon, who’d taken back to hacking apart the wall as defenders broke themselves against its fiery body. Vigilant eyes searched it from blackened hoof to curved horn, looking for any weak spots they might exploit. Despite their assault, the balor’s frame was hardly damaged, nothing worse than scratches, that’s when he spied the marks left by his talons. They’d yet to heal. “It might not be the most creative, but I think I’m going to try the dwarven method.”

“Hit it really, really hard?”

The dragon huffed and landed amidst his allies, who’d continued to batter away against the balor’s hide. Their faces were drained of color, painted with worry as the unrelenting monster continued it’s assault. Veledar narrowed his gaze with a growl, “Find a way to hold him steady and I can tear him apart.”

“You think dragon?” Asterion hurled a hammer of shimmering light across the field of broken bodies and cracked stone, “The demon has weathered all we’ve brought to bear.”

“That makes sense.” Nivra grimaced, “Balors are known to be resistant to magic, in addition to most physical means of assailing them.”

“Last time I channeled magic into my talons, I managed to wound him.” Veledar grinned and gestured to Arcturus, “I’m thinking with a little divine aid from Bahamut’s champion here, we can rip that beast to pieces.”

“What did you have in mind?” Arcturus asked, loosing a bolt of lightning.

“Asterion and Nivra hold him down, you channel magic through me into your biggest smite. Think you can do that?”

“Dwarven method?” Nivra groaned, starting to dig through her reagent pouches, “Suppose it won’t hurt, anything else keeps sliding off this monster. Asterion, I’ll get one arm you get the other?”

“Chains of Sodash.” The minotaur grunted, nostrils flaring as he eyed the balor. “It won’t hold him for long. Dragon, you think you can do this?”

“Have anything better hiding in that fur?” Courage rippled through his chest as he lashed his tail, stretching his limbs. “Have faith, isn’t that right Arcturus?”

The paladin nodded, right as his side. He drew his sword, white flames soon cascading off it’s onyx surface. With a word of draconic it flared ever brighter, not only content to remain contained to Arcturus’ blade, but also weave itself around each of Veledar’s talons. “Good enough for you?”

“Plenty.” Veledar growled, before tossing back his head and unleashing a threatening roar that pulled the attention of their demotic guest.

The air ignited in a series of magical blasts, bathing the area in waves of multicolored hues. Earth exploded, stones splintered and cracked, energy crossbows sung a terrible song. Veledar surged forward, courage in his breast, his paws hardly touching the ground. Nerves steeled as Asterion willed chains of light into existence, wrapping around one arm of the balor and dragging it down to the ground. The beast snarled, trying to pull itself free, only for Nivra to hold her staff high, encasing it’s other side in shards of hardened ice.

Veledar pounced, his talons and fangs bared, all glowing with Bahamut’s radiance. Disoriented the balor stumbled back, unable to stop what was to come. The dragon slammed down upon his bulk, tearing through unholy flesh, opening rivers of crimson down the demon’s flesh. As it shrieked it’s unworldly sounds, the dragon sank down his jaws onto it’s throat, tasting brimstone and iron. With a savage snarl he pulled back, ripping open a savage gash, exposing tendons and blackened bones.

Arcturus rushed forward, his radiant blade slicing through the balor’s hamstrings.

It must have known it was dead, the light of its forged eyes starting to dim. What strength the demotic creature possessed began to waver. Like a puppet with its strings cut it began to sway back and forth, powerful legs buckling thanks to Veledar and Arcturus’ efforts. With a harsh snort the creature did just that, crashing to the battered ground below in a crumple pile.

With a paw placed triumphantly on it’s chest, Veledar tossed back his head and released a brassy roar. It pierced the heavens, brought life to the survivors around him, willing them to join him with cute roars of their own. They were joined, dragon and mortal in this moment of victory.

“That’s the way you ruddy bastard!” Merlia hollered from above, ash from the balor’s flames still about her face. She continued to taunt and jeer as the guardians gathered around the creature’s corpse, skewering it with their spears to ensure that it was truly dead.

Asterion emerged from the guardians, slathered in blood, a look of utter delight shining as bright as the sun behind his eyes. With an axe in tow, he clambered onto the defeated creature’s chest, beginning to hack and carve away at its horns. Evidently it was going to be some sort of trophy of honor.

“And I’ll say, I thought we were positively mounted.” Nivra dusted off her robes as Voidwing fluffed his feathers, panting as he rode down the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The dragon chuckled in amusement as Arcturus joined at his side, the man tossing back his head and doing his best impression of the dragon’s roar. Veledar of course coiled his tail and took a deep breath, showing the knight how it was properly done. This one louder than the first, erupting into another round of mortals joining him.

“Try and not let this go to your head.” Laughed Arcturus, placing a tender hand on the dragon’s shoulder.

“Go to my head?” Veledar mused, grinning at all the cheers, and murmuring over his exploit. “I, with some help have just bested one of the lords of hell. They’ll speak of this moment for centuries beyond, you’ll excuse me if I don’t take some pride in that fact.” As he rolled a paw to his chest he wrapped Arcturus in a wing, dragging the man ever closer to him. “Joined by his illustrious Umraadi, that allowed such victory to be possible.”

“And what of the rest of us?” Krotos squawked from above, flaring his wings, “Are we chopped liver?”

“Not the point kittybird!” The dragon hissed before nuzzling at Arcturus cheek. “But when they speak of this victory, you can’t blame them for focusing on the more, draconic of those that helped.” He whispered with a growl into the man’s ear, “Which I must thank you for your help Umraadi. You were glorious.”

“Blood burning that much?” A tender hand found its way to his cheek as the paladin chuckled, “Fine, enjoy the moment, I think you’ve earned it.”

“We earned it.” He cooed, but something pulled his head high. The dragon paused, nostrils flaring, his nerves still on edge. Something was wrong, that much was certain, he could feel it in his paws.

“Something wrong?” Asked Arcturus, “Unless you’re looking for a secluded spot?”

“No.” He stated flatly, eyes widening. Whatever it was it was something terrible, wretched, caused his stomach to toss and turn. His snout wrinkled at the prospect of it all, how had he forgotten it? Oh, he recalled pouring through the multitude of tombs over such creatures, memorizing facts, weather types, magic they possessed, and weaknesses. His frills fluttered, heart picking up. Balor were never just put down.

“What is this?” Asterion huffed, as the demon below him had started to glow, first like a candle but swiftly increasing with each breath.

The dragon’s eyes widened. “Get back! Run for your lives! It’s going to explode!” Roared Veledar as he flung himself at Arcturus, tackling the man to the ground and wrapping him tight in his paws and forming a fortress with his wings.

The balor erupted in a flash, unleashing a blossom of red-orange death; those closest without the reflexes or speed were caught within its embrace, disintegrated in the blink of an eye. Further away unfortunate souls had their flesh blackened and charred, roasted to ensure their last moments were fraught with unimaginable agony. This final, wretched gift was to envelop the wall, shaking the foundations that held it for centuries. Cracks formed as the stone shook, splintering as thousands of minute rivers across its surface. Then came a force like that of the gods themselves, breaking apart the wall and loosing it across the war-torn landscape.

Arcturus coughed from beneath his dragon prison, breaking apart the uneasy silence that held the courtyard in its sway.

“Are you alright?” Veledar asked, his ears ringing, sensing the ache that enveloped the knight’s senses.

“I’m going to be bruised something awful.” He groaned, hand already starting to glow as he brought it to touch his arm.

“Apologies. I had not the time to shift my weight.” The dragon pressed his snout down, “I could have killed you by accident- “

“It’s alright.” Arcturus held his cheeks, “Forget about me, what about the others?”

He hadn’t thought of those. Veledar unwound himself, leaving the perceived safety of his wings to the uncertain weight that now rested on the air. The courtyard was nothing more than a crater, with fragments of steel and stone that had not been done away by the Balor’s gift. The air smelled of ash and burned flesh, the dragon’s snout wrinkling that it was all that was left of the defenders. Among the ground were scattered fires, painting the haunting image in long shadows.

“Did anyone make it?” Arcturus struggled to stand, a look of dread crawling across his face.

“Arcturus, I don’t think we have time for that.” Veledar wheeled around, flaring his wings wide, shaking his head free of the ringing in his ears. The grim fact was laid bare before him, a tide of shambling, hungry horrors. “The wall has been breached.”

**** **** **** ****

“To arms, to arms!” Arcturus shouted at the top of his lungs, uncertain if anyone around save Veledar was there to hear it. Thankfully, they were not alone, as guardians pulled themselves from the rubble, bruised, battered, some bleeding, but more than willing to come to his aid; Others came flocking from the city or nearby battlements, should they fail, the city could be lost in these moments. The paladin drew his sword and held it aloft, it’s radiant flame billowing into the night. He would be ready to face what darkness came.

“You’re mad don’t you know that?” Growled Veledar, before flicking his tail and tracing a paw through the air, “Yol Struhnmah.” As the dragon’s eyes flared to life a bright red, flames like that of his breath swelled into existence into the gap between the broken walls. The dancing tendrils reached as high as an ogre, their intensity bathing the ground beyond the city in an aura of dominating heat that bid welcome the tidal wave of zombies and skeletons that advanced upon it. Unconcerned with pain they burned, withered away, what magic that had held it’s sway dying to Veledar’s wall of flame.

“You think me mad? I have you with me!” Replied the knight as he bellowed orders to the guardians joining at his side, he had them form ranks, shields at the ready, steeled their nerves to resist the tide of undead that would soon break through the dragon’s fury. Above, from the remains of the walls and nearby structures, the sound of dragonfire rifles snapped through the night, helping buy the guardians below precious time to regroup and find their footing. To the paladin’s relief, he spied Merlia among them, it would appear as the Balor had not claimed her life.

“There is quite the number don’t you say?” Asterion emerged, hammer in hand, a smirk about his snout. What armor he had was tattered, most the leather straps burned away, blood trickled down from his lips, but the cleric looked like he’d never been more alive. “I now can say I’ve survived all the strength a balor can bear, my old clan would be envious.”

“Not many would share that thought, or relish in it, but I’m glad you’ve not perished.”

“Bah.” The bull snorted, “Takes more than a demon from the depths of the nine hells to do it.”

He nodded as Veledar took a breath, unleashing a plume of fire to cast away the terrors shambling through his wall.  “Have you seen the others? Or are you- “

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” Voidwing flared his wings, landing before the pair with a chirp. Atop his back was Nivra, her staff at the ready, scuffed, robes singed, but no worse for wear.

“The night is filled with small miracles.” Arcturus smiled as the mage dismounted off her love, facing down the wall with the eyes of a commander. “I take it Voidwing’s wings were swift?”

“Always.” The gryphon stretched, lashing his tail. “Though if you forgive me Arcturus, it would appear as though we have a multitude of unwanted guests.” Voidwing’s ears pinned at the sight just beyond Veledar’s flames, the disease-ridden masses of gnashing teeth and blades. “And these are just the foot soldiers. I imagine the greater beasts will be undeterred by flames alone.”

“Of that you would be correct.” Nivra replied, brushing off her robes, “Which means without prompt action, this position will not be able to be held.” She grimaced, “We must retreat and find a more defensible one to hold.”

The paladin nodded, that much was certain. It would be an unending tide of bones and teeth, not to mention the shadows, vampires and other monstrosities that were given free reign with the wall’s wards destroyed in such a manner.

“Here they come!” Veledar snarled, as he was left panting for now, his flames needing a moment to recharge. The wall of flame that had come into being had flickered it’s last, leaving the hoard of death to shamble forward, eager for their blades or teeth to taste flesh.

They came like the oppressive night, steel and bone woven around unholy beasts of hate. They carried themselves on ill formed legs, some bolted upon mangled flesh, the weapons they caried were smeared with rust, some dripping with green ichor. Behind them marched creatures of bloated gore, held together with strands of cloth and rune coated stitching. Still, the defenders met them with what courage they had.

The divide was soon filled with the clashing of steel and the shouts of men, blades dove into flesh, axes cleaved those aside. Shields were sundered, limbs were hacked apart, the ground was swiftly pained in the blood of dead and living alike. Fire came to cast away reinforcements, but it was no better than trying to block the tide itself, every moment was inundated with the dying.

Arcturus stood firm, Voidwing and Krotos at his side as they hacked apart the dead that came to them. His armor was slathered in the creature’s vile juices, a mirror of the gryphon’s own. His blade tasted unholy flesh time and time again, exploding them apart with radiant flames, but there always seemed two more beasts to take the place of those they destroyed. Beak, claw, talon, and fangs did arduous work, but there was no end.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins, never letting him pause as the rage of combat tore through him. He caved in rotted skulls with his shield, decapitated zombies, ghouls, or skeletons with his sword. Every move he made could have been his last, but he pushed onward. Others around him collapsed, being torn apart, but with the gryphons and Veledar at his side, his flank stood firm.

Eventually the dragon took it upon himself to clear a path, rolling flames doing the job of a whole section of soldiers. It allowed the defenders to gain some ground. Arcturus joined him, slashing apart those that tried to leap upon his Umraadi’s hide. Dragon and knight fought as one in these moments, never sharing a word, but being exactly where the other needed. He ducked from his love’s tail, a paw defended his blind spot, they were like a single entity of death.

When a reprieve from the fighting washed over them both, the sensation was still there. Arcturus might have stood, panting with his dragon, but the man was uncertain where he began, and the dragon ended. But the undead would not let him dwell on this for long, as the tide bearing down on them was relentless. Even with Asterion, Nivra and Merlia joining his side, they were fighting a losing battle, giving up ground.

“We need to find a way cease this relentless hoard!” Nivra proclaimed, slashing her arm, guiding twin spinning blades of ice through the ranks of dead. “Otherwise, we need to signal the retreat!”

Arcturus and Veledar both turned at exactly the same time.

“What…did you have in mind?” Arcturus asked, starting to feel the haze start to recede, his senses squarely back within his body.

“Something swift I hope.” Growled Veledar, shaking his head, glimmers of confusion fluttering about his chest. He’d noticed the battle haze as well. “You’re not going to like what’s coming next. I can see giants.”

“We need something permanent…Otherwise…” He couldn’t shake the reality of the situation, it would fall. Arcturus grit his teeth, clenched tight his fist, though he hated to admit it, Dreadflame had secured another victory.

“How about a wall?” Veledar asked, lifting a tattered mass of mangled metal and hurling it straight into a trio of zombified minotaur, crushing the groaning abominations. “One like Shandalar summoned that time! Nivra, do you know the spell?”

“Do I look like a novice?” Replied the princess, brandishing her staff at the ready, “Of course I do, I have all the spells that she did.”

“And do you still have the spell prepared?” Asked Arcturus.

“If you mean having stored it in the staff, then yes.” She cupped the amber gem, a grim expression overtaking her, "But it will need to stand for an ample amount of time before being permanent. We will need to protect it...and myself to maintain concentration."

“And connect the two sections of the wall.” Snorted Veledar, “Unless you’d like the wards that kept out the undead to fall.”

She laughed at that, “You read up on the wall?”

The dragon rolled his eyes, “How long did we spend in that library together? I learned a thing or two.”

“Then we are in agreement?” Arcturus shouted, eying the breach; there was currently a tide before them, numerous feet of ground to reclaim until they could seal the broken wall. It would be a bloody task, claim numerous of the lives now dwindling by the breath. With a reserved breath and look to Veledar he steeled himself, it needed to be done, and with the dragon by his side, it felt like anything could be achieved.

“You might need one of these!” Skywing announced from overhead, a repeating energy crossbow within his talons. It’s bronze frame resembling very much like the creature that bore it.  “Saw you were neck deep in dead!”

With the gryphon came the flight of gryphons, landing amidst the dead and tearing apart where they landed. Once secure they flared their wings and took flight, starting a series of hit and run tactics.

“Skywing you magnificent catbird! I could kiss you!” He sheathed his sword and stowed his shield, brandishing the weapon as it hummed with power. With a touch of a rune a brilliant bolt of light was willed into existence, waiting to be loosed.

“Save it for later my friend!” Chirped the gryphon, starting to order his gryphons into more coordinated attacks, “And that goes for you as well dragon!”

“Count on it!” The dragon roared back, before putting an end to a bulwark of advancing zombies with shields.

Wheeling around to face the hoard, Arcturus and Veledar’s coming roar signaled the advance to retake the breech. He couldn’t miss with how thick the dead were, at his mere gesture, the crossbow unleashed withering death upon their forces. It sang through the air, filling it with crackling bolts, splintered dead into showers of blackened blood and fragmented bone. Combined with the guardian’s rifles, Asterion’s holy flames and Veledar’s breath, they managed to turn the tide long enough to gain back some ground.

Even still the job was arduous, the undead leaping back with a renewed fury that only they could unleash. Limbs mangled, heads half destroyed, some crawled upon the ground to nip at the defender’s feet. There was no end to guardians charging onward to be dragged down, ended with gnashing teeth.

Nivra stood back, as gryphons landed and flared their feathers, watchful of the sky for anything that might seek to injure their queen. She spoke the words, clearly and with power, moving her staff to compliment the coming spell. Her eyes closed as nodes of light gathered forth upon the rubble, lifting fragments that lay dormant. They hovered as if on invisible strings, willed back to where they had originally been. They however stopped, the princess holding up her staff as she trembled, like a great weight had fallen upon her shoulders. “Arcturus!” She yelled amidst the cacophony of noise, “The space in which I need to fill must be clear!”

The knight nodded, slamming back a pale faced creature with the butt of the crossbow, before exploding it’s mangled face in a collage of rotted gore. With a brassy, commanding roar he called upon those by his side to press onward, “The breech must be clear! Cast them out!”

His call was repeated by Krotos, Voidwing and the gryphons, bringing strength and courage to those fighting for every inch of ground. Steel clattered, flesh was torn, the guardians pressed forward despite their losses. At their lead was Alonso and his wolven husband, blades singing a song of death for those they faced.

Even with their help the dead did grow thicker, the basic troops replaced with far more nefarious things. Beasts with regenerating limbs, others with spiney protrusions in which to smash, others that vomited acid, melting all those that were caught beneath in a chorus of screams. Arcturus found himself hurled back by a troll of Veledar’s size, it’s skull devoid of eyes. His energy crossbow snapped against the earth with a flash of blue light. As he rose it turned it’s fleshy head towards him, roaring with rotted teeth, it’s flesh still bubbling with its regenerative ability, failing to realize it’s master was dead.

The man grunted as Veledar was set upon by a hoard of such creatures, sturdy and large, easy able to challenge the might that was the dragon. Gritting his teeth, Arcturus ducked to avoid the mace one creature did wield, a wicked thing about his size, stitched to the troll’s hands. It slammed to the dirt, leaving a great crater, there was no way he wished to experience that. He brought to bear his shield and unsheathed his sword, letting it’s flames light up the night.

Flaming sword held tight he passed by it, slicing off one of its arms. Though it might have been tough, he was far faster. Where he struck the troll’s ability tried to regrow, but his weapon put that to an end. There was a howl or screech as it turned to lash about him, pain oblivious to its kind. Arcturus found himself slashed at, the shield he bore blunting it’s fury. Despite this, the man was sent tumbling backwards, it’s strength far greater than his own. It followed.

Panic passed for merely a moment as he tasted blood and picked himself off the ground. Veledar was busy with fending off three such creatures, the fires of death in his sapphire eyes. The knight steeled himself and gave a roar, meeting this abomination with courage in his breast. He avoided it’s next swing, sliced off its hand, bathing the ground in blackened, oil like blood. It stumbled back he followed through, skewering right through its slimy hide.

“In Bahamut’s name!” He roared, the assertion causing his eyes to glow, taking on a more draconic shape. From his blade came a flash of holy magic, a blast that incinerated the wretched flesh that bore it. The troll froze, it’s grim moments ceasing as what horrid magic had given it life failed. Arcturus breathed easy, but his victory was not to be long celebrated, another wave of horrors scrambled towards them.

These were carried on six limbs, bent strangely at the knees. Their faces were hacked open, devoid of eyes and ears, mouths hung open, outfitted with sharpened fangs to resemble a shark. The ground below them crackled with a sickly green light, hinting a magical enchantment. They leaped upon the living with lightning speed, avoiding swords and spears meant to end them. They dug through gaps in armor, tore at flesh, inflicting misery onto those they touched.

Battered, claws screeching across his armor, Arcturus was set upon like all the rest. Blood pounded in his ears as he kept the creature at bay, barely able to avoid it’s snapping jaws. It clung to his shield like a wretched plague, clamping upon his helmet with. He could smell the death that came from its sickly throat, seeking nothing more than his end as the helmet began to buckle, yielding before this wretched creature’s demand. Relief came in a soldier being pulled down beside him, his flails of death knocking the creature off balance and off the paladin’s head. With a slash he put an end to the wretched beast, slicing it right down the middle. With a grim heart he skewered the beast on the man next to him, putting an end to his suffering. He’d have healed him, but there was not enough left of his face.

“Arcturus!” Veledar thundered, his tail swept away the dead like a mace, his paws crushed those before him, clove right through their wretched hearts. The next wave that would have met the man was instead bathed in flames, wrapping them tight in wicked, red-orange ribbons. They stumbled and collapsed, broken when the dragon leaped and landed upon them.

The paladin undid the straps of his helmet, pulling free the bent and mangled thing, thanking it for saving his life. He tossed it aside, his face slathered with sweat and grime as he called out the those that remained to keep pressing forward and onto the dragon, they were almost there, the wall almost secure, he could taste it. Hacking and slashing Arcturus and the guardians cut their way through the wretched filth, buying every foot with lives.

“Just a bit more!” Arcturus shouted, heart pounding as instinct took hold, slice, blood, retreat, stab, he was a machine of death as he came to Veledar’s side. He ducked below the dragon’s tail, sliced at a wiggling thing of tentacles seeking to leap upon his mate. Once more his mind intermingled with the dragon’s own, being part of something greater.

By the time the way had been cleared, Arcturus, Veledar and the others were exhausted, each strike starting to be weighed down. Blades stabbed at the dragon’s scales, drew him to snarl and hiss, what they’d gained would not last long against the coming tide.

That’s when the wall of stone came, raising up as a pillar of black. It would be as tall and as thick as the original wall it was based on, the magical summon closing a perfect seal from break to break. But Arcturus paid that little mind, now wasn’t a care for aesthetics. However, what caught his attention was an appendage of grotesque design, bumpy and covered with pus. It pierced through the crowd of guardians like a lance, splattering against his chest and latching on with an unholy strength.

Before he could react and cut himself loose, he was yanked back, dragging him to the hoards of chattering teeth and death beyond the wall. He shouted and tried to resist but its grip was far too strong, his metal scraped against the blackened stone of Nivra’s summoning spell. To his horror the wall she created shot up behind him, preventing any sort of retreat. He was to be trapped on the wrong side.

“Arcturus!” Veledar shouted, the fear palpable through the bond.

Not a moment to lose he slashed, severing the grotesque appendage from him, sending himself tumbling to the cold, corpse little ground with a grunt. His armor stopped most of the damage, but still pain lanced through him, stabbed at his sides, he’d feel that in the morning should he survive. He stood on shaky limbs, trapped in the dark, unable to see more than the light of his sword could bring. It illuminated a grim reality, one where he was surrounded, back to the wall, with little means of escape.

Shield raised he was soon set upon by their unholy ranks, fighting for his very life. Skeletons, zombies of course making up the bulk of which tried to latch themselves upon his shield, but further behind he could make out the form of larger beasts, ones that stood over Veledar himself. These drooled and padded along as if waiting, content to let their lesser minions wear the man out. He hated to admit it, but without aid, this might be his end.

Yelling and shouting away the gnawing fear, Arcturus hacked apart foe after foe, until his shield met a bubbling mass of putrid oil. Upon contact the magic item began to tremble and shake, the blows railing upon it starting to strain the metal until with a final crack it splintered into a dozen fragments, leaving the paladin without much defense than his armor to call upon. He found himself swiftly dragged down by their numbers, putrid claws dragging against his armor, teeth snapping to tear apart his flesh. Still, he fought on.

He punched, kicked, struggled for every breath as they bore down upon him. This would not be his end, but even he wasn’t too sure. One sunk it’s sharpened teeth into his neck, finally getting a taste of his flesh. Blood flowed as he shouted, snapping up to grab the beasts softened skull and crush it beneath his fingers. His only reprieve came as Veledar from the wall burned a ring of fire around him, buying him a few precious seconds to throw the snapping zombie off him and scramble to his feet.

Panting, bleeding, lightheaded, the paladin’s world had begun to spin. Grabbing his sword, he brandished it with a grim glance to the horrors beyond the dragon’s fire. Despite its destruction they cared not for their own safety. His legs began to tremble, vision grew blurry, it was all he could do to hold onto his sword.  Just as they were going to give a final charge and do away with his light forever, Skywing, Krotos and Voidwing leaped down to crush those beneath their talons, tearing out others with their beaks, buying enough time for Veledar to take flight, swoop down and pluck Arcturus from the earth with his paws.

It was hasty and without much softness, the dragon’s claws had even nipped through Arcturus’ gambeson and drew blood. Yet the man still smiled, held ever close to the scaled chest of his love, carried up and over the wall like a genuine angel from above.

“Veledar- “

“Save your breath.” His voice was firm yet filled to the brim with genuine dread. The dragon circled a clear space and brought them down as careful as he could, laying Arcturus down at Asterion’s hooves. “Heal him.” The dragon snarled, eyes narrowed, tail lashed.

The bull nodded without protest, no snide remark as he kneeled beside Arcturus and began weaving his healing magic. He pressed a firm hand to Arcturus’ chest, letting strands of white light flow from him to the paladin’s weakened form.

“Thanks for the rescue Umraadi.” Arcturus coughed, his vision starting to be encroached upon by blackness, his breaths felt as though hundreds of daggers were stabbing him from within. “For a moment I thought- “His heart chilled, not wanting to finish that sentence.

“It doesn’t matter, you’re safe now.” Replied the dragon with a rumble, eyes locked upon the man as Asterion’s magic stitched together flesh. His nostrils flared as he held still, letting the human caress his jaw.

“I think I lost the shield you gave me.” He said that softly, lamenting the loss of what had saved his life numerous times.

“That’s alright, your life is what matters. We’ll get it back once we’ve won.”

“That will be difficult, it was shattered apart before my eyes. Weakened by some grotesque sludge.”

“WHAT?” The dragon pulled away his snout, with a growl, eyes narrowed. “You went it got it destroyed!”

“You speak as though it’s my fault! Hey!” The dragon had nipped him.

“That’s why you have to take better care of my things!” He nipped the human again for good measure.

“Dragon, nip him again and I’ll smash your nose.” Asterion growled, “He needs to be still.”

“Yes, I just was bitten by some undead, I don’t need more.” Arcturus groaned.

The dragon huffed, rolling his eyes as his frills fluttered, “This is why you don’t lend things out Veledar, especially to adventurers. This is the last time I’m won over by a set of handsome eyes and good bum!”

He laughed as the dragon was trying to hide his relief of his safety, when the snout came, he held it, smooching the red scales, “I have a good bum do I?”

“The best.” Veledar growled, “You’re going to have to owe me so much for my shield’s destruction.” His nostrils flared, “That was an item dating back before Lumara’s construction!”

 “I thought all that mattered was my life!”

“Yes, but I can still be cross with you.”

They laughed together, Veledar nuzzling into his chest as the battle to secure the wall still raged. Shouts came to hold onto precious minutes more, Nivra’s spell was almost complete. With the dead below unable to climbs, the defenders securing positions and digging in, victory was all but assured. That was until the wall itself began to crack, lines of red, white and orange starting to travel down it’s surface like roads through the city.

Those atop the wall found the stone below them starting to twist and change, what was hard starting to soften and bubble. Cracks that had formed began to grow, threatening to dominate the entirety of the formed wall. Molten heat flared into existence, reducing those unable to escape into blackened masses of charred and mangled flesh. To the horror of all who witnessed it the wall collapsed, spreading out and covered the ground, it had been turned into lava. Like that their efforts had been undone, the defenses cast aside, the air was filled with the screams of those still clinging to life amidst the carnage.

Beyond the wall was a single form, it’s gold scales glinting in the light. The beast that Veledar had boasted about his victory against, within the ranks of the dead and wearing a cruel, proud smirk upon it’s snout. Feathery wings fluffed as the dead ran through it’s limbs, howling with inhuman shrieks. It eyed a section of the walls with still shocked defenders, taking a deep breath and loosing a fireball, reducing all those caught within to ash.

“Fall back!” Alonso shouted, pulling his husband free, the panic clear in his voice. “Back to the streets, we’ll fight them there!”

The order was parroted by the guardians as they began their retreat, sharpshooters above covering the survivors as they turned to flee. The undead surged after them like ravenous hounds, clambering over the now cooling breech. What defense of the city would now be within the walls, the defender’s dwindling spirits breaking ever further as the sound of a second explosion echoed through the night.

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